Battle of Wills
by Linguam
Summary: Missing scene from Sweet Dreams [S2E10]. After the signing of the peace treaty between the five kingdoms, Arthur has a hard time accepting his actions. But as always, Merlin is there to help - whether Arthur wants him to or not. Just an excuse for some fluff between our favorite pair. No slash though!


**A/N:** Right, so I've become addicted to the BBC series _Merlin _(so much so, in fact, that I watched the series twice during less than two months) and as usual when I watch a series I get a lot of ideas (though few ever live to be read by others than myself). This, however, I was persistent in publishing, because I think there are way too few fanfics where Arthur is hurt/struggling. Don't get me wrong, I love Merlin, but I'm _in_ love with Arthur ;-) Hopefully there'll be more fanfics within this fandom, because I'm more or less obsessed with these two!

Oh, one other thing; I hope there won't be any inaccuracies, but somehow there always seems to be something that finds its way through the scrutiny of the human eye. If you find something, please let me know :-)

**Summary:** After the signing of the peace treaty between the five kingdoms, Arthur has a hard time accepting his actions. But as always, Merlin is there to help - whether Arthur wants him to or not!

**Disclaimer:** To my great chagrin and eternal sorrow, I do not own _Merlin._

* * *

It wasn't until the adrenaline (and relief) faded hours later that he felt the exhaustion – and pain. All of the four visiting Kings had since long left Camelot – as well as the Lady Vivian, thank God – returning to their respective kingdoms with a powerful new alliance, and he sat dining with his father and Morgana in the council chambers.

During the enchantment, all Arthur could really focus on was his sudden affection for the princess. Everything else had been an unimportant blur. Now though, everything was painfully clear – painful in every sense of the word – and the shame he felt towards his actions well exceeded the sharp stabbing sensation in his side and the stiffness in his right shoulder. The notion that he had indeed been enchanted – something he had coerced Merlin into spitting out, since he could see no reasonable explanation for his sudden interest in the haughty princess – did little to relieve him of that shame.

In the end though, the King had been too pleased with the signing of the peace treaty to scold him, for which Arthur was immensely grateful (he was doing a pretty good job of that himself).

His father now raised his goblet, eyes glistening and more satisfied than Arthur had seen him in ages.

"I propose a toast" he declared. "For this is a truly historical day for Camelot!"

Arthur reached for his own goblet and winced when the action made his broken ribs moan in protest. Morgana threw him a worried look, which he defused with a strained half-smile. The King was too busy draining his wine to notice.

The rest of the dinner passed fairly uneventful, with the King and Morgana doing most of the talking. Arthur chimed in where he needed to, but was more occupied trying to succeed in the suddenly very painful task of breathing. Every inhale sent knives burying into his chest, and every exhale made him want to gag. Add to that the bone-aching exhaustion that crawled over him and it was pure willpower that prevented him from toppling over the table.

He had always prided himself in his ability to hide his feelings behind a mask of royal indifference – after all, it was needed. But this time, something must have shown on his face for suddenly Morgana stopped mid-sentence and stared at him in concern.

"Arthur, are you alright?" she asked, a frown covering her forehead.

The King turned towards his son and studied him critically, and Arthur internally scolded himself for failing, once again, to play the role he was raised to play.

"Yes, Morgana, I'm fine" he answered, with a bit more bite than he had intended.

"I trust Gaius treated your injuries?" his father said, an unmistakable undercurrent of tension to it as they all remembered how he had gotten them in the first place.

"Yes, father, though it is nothing serious. It will be fine in the morning."

Morgana seemed doubtful, but he silenced her with a sharp look. It was bad enough that he had once again proved to be a disappointment to his father, he did not need to be looked upon as a weakling as well. Before any new discussion could rise, Arthur excused himself, plate half finished, and made to stand – a feat which he completed without flinching.

The stroll from the council chambers seemed to take forever, each step making his breath hitch and sending a fresh stab of agony through his stiff body, and by the time he reached his chambers, his breathing was labored and a light sheen of sweat covered his brow. He was grateful that he at least didn't have his armor on.

Closing the door behind him, he took a moment to calm his beating heart. He gazed around the room, tired blue eyes wandering to the big, inviting bed, wanting nothing more than to just lie down and forget about the events of the previous days, before stopping at his work desk – it was laden with the paper work that he had neglected since the arrival of the four kings.

He sighed and rubbed his eyes tiredly. Slowly, he moved across the room and eased himself down in the chair, fleetingly considering to send after Gaius for something to dull the pain, but then dismissed the idea. His father would undoubtedly hear of it, and the mere thought of shouting for the guards, or Merlin, made him grimace. Besides, he'd had worse. It would be fine in the morning, surely.

Reaching for the first paper in the bundle and his quill, he was determined to finish all of it before turning in for the night.

* * *

Half an hour later, and with less than half of the papers completed, he was positively drained. Thrice he had read the scout reports from the western border, just to realize that he didn't remember a thing by the end of it. The letters switched places so often that, in the end, he wasn't even sure that the language he was reading was really his own.

A voice in his head, sounding suspiciously like Merlin, reminded him that he should sleep. But, like he would his servant, he simply ignored it. He would sit here all night if he had to. He explained it by the fact that he couldn't afford to neglect his duties anymore, but he knew that there was more to it. This was punishment.

It wasn't until the voice grew in strength and shadows started to move in the corner of his eye – shadows that had nothing to do with fatigue – that he realized that it wasn't just in his head.

He snapped his head right up, body tense. Before him stood his clumsy, gangly manservant, watching him with such ill-concealed worry that Arthur realized that he had probably been standing there for quite some time.

"Yes, Merlin?"

His voice sounded hoarse even to his ears and he quickly cleared his throat.

Merlin silently eyed the contents on the table before looking back to Arthur. Even if he hadn't been as easy to read as an open book, it was evident that he wasn't pleased.

"Are you sure that can't wait until tomorrow?" he asked carefully.

Arthur quirked an eyebrow at him and watched him in silence for a moment before speaking.

"Is there a reason for you being here, _Mer_lin, or do you simply wish to annoy me?"

The raven-haired boy smirked, but it didn't quite reach his eyes.

"Morgana came" he explained, a small frown on his forehead. "She was concerned about you."

Arthur's jaw tensed and he internally cursed Morgana.

"Well, like I told Morgana earlier, I'm fine" he said evenly, sending Merlin a glare that would make most people recoil. But then again, Merlin wasn't most people.

"She is just worried, Arthur."

"There is no need to be, I'm fine" Arthur repeated calmly, as if daring Merlin to question him.

Said servant sighed irritably and crossed his arms.

"You don't have to lie to me, you know" he said. "I was there in the tent, remember? I saw everything." He paused before adding, "And you look like a wrung-out rag."

Though his tone was somewhat teasing, it was true. The prince looked like, had he been standing, he would have toppled over. It was a minor miracle he hadn't faceplanted on his desk already.

Arthur stared at him in silence, fighting the urge to throw something at his annoying, useless in-the-habit-of-getting-himself-into-other-peoples-business servant, before willing himself to look back down at his papers.

"Thank you Merlin, your concern is duly noted." He gave a dismissive gesture towards the door. "That will be all."

Merlin just stood there, gaping at him with a mixture of vexation and incredulity.

"Arthur, you need to rest, you look like death warmed up. A blind man could see it. You're just too pigheaded to admit it."

"Merlin…" Arthur warned, but his servant didn't waver.

"There is no use in punishing yourself, you couldn't have resisted the enchantment even if you had been aware of it. The treaty was signed and I'm sure that your father will…"

"Merlin. Shut up."

Merlin snorted and rolled his eyes at what he could only call Arthur's "royal voice".

"Prat."

When no objection came, he sighed irritably and produced a small bottle containing yellow liquid from his pocket. Crossing the distance between them, he offered it to Arthur.

"Gaius prepared this for you. It should take the edge off."

Arthur stared at him as if he had grown two heads.

"Are you deaf as well as stupid? I. Do not. Need it!"

"Would you stop being such a dollophead and just take it so I can go back to bed?"

"Would _you_ stop pestering me so I can concentrate on my work!"

Without thinking, Arthur rose from the chair, and immediately regretted it as the motion made him gasp. He could feel the impact from King Olaf's spear all over again, and dark spots appeared before his eyes. He swayed dangerously, the only thing that prevented him from falling over his desk Merlin's firm grip on his uninjured shoulder.

"Yeah, you're definitely fine" Merlin muttered sarcastically. "Come on, let's get you to bed."

Arthur grunted, his teeth clenched so hard together that it felt like they would break. He wanted to protest, to tell Merlin to sod off and leave him to his work, tell him that he didn't need any help, that he was fine. But he knew that if he managed to open his mouth, all that would emanate was another garbled gasp. Not to mention that if Merlin _did_ let go, Arthur, to his great chagrin, had no doubt that he would plummet to the floor. So he swallowed his pride, leaned heavily on Merlin and let him navigate his tired body towards the bed. Thankfully, his manservant didn't say anything about it.

He was gently laid down against soft pillows, breathing shallowly as he tried to ease the compression on his ribs. Merlin disappeared out of sight, giving Arthur some time to catch his breath. He closed his eyes, the softness of the sheets immediately making him sleepy, despite his protests. He had no idea how much time passed before the Merlin returned – seconds, minutes, hours even? – but suddenly he was there again, with what seemed like some sort of salve and a bundle of bandages.

"Now, let's get a look at those ribs, shall we?"

Arthur swatted his hand away, mostly out of habit, and Merlin sighed in exasperation.

"Does prattiness come natural to you, or do you just want to make my life difficult?"

"That depends, _Mer_lin, does being an idiot come natural to you?" Arthur puffed and slowly eased himself into a sitting position against the pillows. It was harder than he cared to admit, every muscle in his body screaming at him to stay down and embrace the darkness that rimmed his eyes. He watched his servant through narrow eyes. "You really won't leave, will you?"

Merlin gave him one of his most annoying grins and it was Arthur's turn to sigh in frustration.

"Fine, but make it quick. I have work to do."

"You are unbelievable" Merlin muttered, and started applying the salve he had fetched at Gaius' chambers on Arthur's bruised skin. "I don't understand why I put up with you."

"If I recall correctly, I ordered you to leave but you, being your usual insubordinate, insolent, useless self…" he hissed in pain.

"My apologies, Sire" Merlin said lightly, not at all regretful, and started with the bandages. He took the opportunity of Arthur catching his breath and continued. "I understand that you have responsibilities, Arthur, and that it is your duty to perform them to the best of your ability. But you will help no one if you ride yourself into the ground." He paused to ease Arthur back down, his body heavy and eyes half-closed in fatigue. "The papers will still be there tomorrow. You should rest."

"I don't take orders from you, _Mer_lin" Arthur grunted.

"In case you hadn't noticed, _Sire_, you are in no position to give any either."

The glare he received prompted Merlin to quickly change the subject.

"I ran into Gwen earlier" he said casually, an involuntary smile tugging at his lips. "She seemed quite pleased. Actually, the happiest I've seen her in a long time." He deliberately avoided looking at Arthur and corrected the covers, knowing there would be a blush creeping up the prince's cheeks at the mention of Morgana's maid.

"I thought I ordered you to never mention what happened in that tent" Arthur gritted out threateningly, but one quick glance at the prince's red face only made Merlin's grin widen.

"Oh, but I didn't say anything about that, Sire, I am simply reporting what I saw" Merlin replied innocently.

"_Mer_lin…" Arthur started, but then sighed upon seeing the teasing twinkle in the servant's eye. He didn't have the energy for this. He studied the ceiling of his bed silently, a distant look in his eyes tinted with sadness and frustration, and then muttered, almost to himself. "It can never be."

Realizing this was the first time Arthur had deliberately acknowledged that he _wanted _something to be, Merlin turned serious.

"Maybe not now" he admitted. "But you can change that when you become king."

"Well I can't really expect her to wait for me, can I?"

Merlin chuckled and rolled his eyes.

"You really think that's something you have a say over?" He knew Gwen and her feelings for the prat, though he couldn't for the life of him understand them, and it wasn't something that was very likely to dissipate anytime soon.

Arthur couldn't help but smile at that, before realizing what he was doing and quickly clearing his throat.

"Well, you've had your fun prodding me with your icy fingers" he said, the glare back in place as he started to force his way up from the bed. "Now leave."

He didn't get very far though until Merlin had pushed him back down again with a strength that Arthur would never have given his servant credit for.

"So you can go back to work and be even more obnoxious tomorrow because you haven't had your precious beauty sleep? I don't think so."

"Merlin, that's an _order_" Arthur growled and tried, in vain, to push his manservant's hands off his shoulders.

"Aren't you forgetting something, Arthur? I never listen to you."

"You are impossible!" The force of the exclamation made him groan as his ribs protested and he gripped the covers tightly.

"Right, _I'm _the one being difficult" Merlin muttered. The prince could be like a petulant child and, despite his current state, Merlin knew that there was no way that he could force Arthur to stay in bed without physically holding him down until sleep took him. And with Arthur's irritating tenacity, who knew how long that would take? Unless… A smile tugged at Merlin's lips as a plan suddenly took form, and he quickly produced the bottle that he had fetched from Gaius chambers. With Arthur busy trying to control the pain, Merlin allowed his eyes to flash golden, and the liquid changed color from yellow to blue.

"How about this" he said, carefully controlling his voice. "I'll stop 'pestering' you, as you so nicely describe someone just trying to help, and leave you to your duties, _if_ you take this."

Arthur opened his glassy eyes and eyed Merlin suspiciously, but the stubbornness slowly turned into resignation as he took in the determined stance of his servant. He had lost enough time bickering with the useless oaf already and, whether he wanted to admit it or not, he could feel his body shutting down.

"Fine, give me the blasted bottle. But then you will be gone and I do not want to see your ugly face again until morning, are we clear?"

"Perfectly, Sire."

The fact that the prince didn't comment upon the change of color only confirmed what Merlin already knew, and he didn't bother hiding his smile as Arthur drowned the liquid in one swallow. Grimacing at the bitter taste, the prince handed the empty vial back to Merlin and started to move his legs over the edge of the bed.

"There, I've held up my end of the deal, now, _Mer_lin, if you could be so kind to _leave_…" He stopped at seeing the huge grin covering his servants face. His eyes darkened and he could feel the suspicion creeping back. "Stop grinning like an idiot and get out of my…" He didn't have time to finish the sentence though, for suddenly the room started swaying and darkness clouded his vision. Frowning in confusion he turned to Merlin – or rather, the two of them - and then realization dawned on him.

"You _drugged _me!?" he spluttered, too stunned to feel anything but disbelief.

"I'm sorry, Sire, but it's for your own good" Merlin replied calmly. Arthur blinked, hearing the amusement even though he couldn't quite make out the smile that he knew adorned Merlin's suddenly very blurry face.

"I'll have you in the stocks for this" he threatened darkly. Merlin's hands were on his shoulders once again, pushing him towards the softness of the pillows.

"Yes, Sire" Merlin responded softly, and Arthur distantly felt his boots dragged off of his feet and the covers being draped over his body.

"And you'll be mucking out my stables for _months_" he continued, his voice sluggish as the sleeping draught started working its way through his body.

"Yes, Sire."

"You are insufferable… the most annoying… infuriating… should have you sacked… utterly useless…" Arthur continued to mutter under his breath but before long, his eyes shut, his voice faded, and his breathing deepened as sleep finally took him.

Merlin watched him silently, with a mixture of exasperation and sheer glee. He knew that he would pay for it in the morning, that Arthur would make sure to keep him working until long after nightfall, and that he probably _would _have to muck out the stables for months. But at the moment, he was just pleased that he had managed to get the stubborn prince to succumb to some well-needed rest.

And that he had outwitted him in the process.

* * *

**A/N: Thank you for reading! Feel free to leave a comment :-)**

**/Linguam**


End file.
